


Find Someone Out There

by Port_of_Morrow



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Army AU, M/M, Military AU, modern day military AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_of_Morrow/pseuds/Port_of_Morrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern day Army AU.</p><p>James Bond is on active duty.</p><p>His boyfriend Q writes letters to him from England.</p><p>Ben McCall shares a tent with Bond- also with a boyfriend left home in Britain, Ben McCall finds himself in the same position as Bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Someone Out There

The rain pounded harder against the roof of the tent; each rain drop sounding like a bullet against the thick canvas, the bash resounding in the bunkhouse tent.

James rolled over in his bunk, pulling the woollen cover up to his chin. He considered whether it was the deafening rain that had roused him, or the dropping temperature which made his right foot- which had been exposed- feel like ice. 

He tucked his feet up and let out a groan as he realised that all feeling had completely gone in his feet. He glanced at his digital watch on the floor; the soft white face glowing 06:38AM. It would be light soon- there was no use trying to fall asleep again.

Bond was in one of the smaller tents: just five other guys in his making up legion 08. Bond slept on the bottom of three bunks: above him a lithe skin-headed man called Jordan Masters: ten years younger and five times faster. On the bunk by the door slept Peakes and Morrison, and on the other were Ben McCall and a new recruit who's name had slipped James' mind. Although as Bond peered through the darkness, he noticed that the bottom bunk was empty. He rose from his bunk, quickly making up the blankets, before snapping his watch over his wrist and slipping a thick black hoodie over his t-shirt. 

He hobbled awkwardly to the tent's port; slowly regaining the use of his right foot. Once there he slipped into his black boots and after quietly unzipping the port, stepped out into the thinning rain.

Although the intensity of the rain was decreasing, the greyish mist which hid the rest of the base from him was ever present. What once were beige canvas tents were now lumbering sandy shapes, hardly distinguishable from the whitish-grey particular descending upon them.

He flicked his hood up over his head and shivvered; gazing out at the invisible world before him; nothing but the rain- quieter now he was out of the cave like tent which echoed every sound. 

James nearly leapt from his own skin when he felt a hand clasp down on his shoulder. His surprise must've been evident, as Ben McCall let out a throaty chuckle beside him.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack Ben,” Bond gasped- turning to the Scotsman who stepped forward, not moving his hand from the blonde soldier’s shoulder and placed a brief kiss on James' lips.  
“We shouldn't...” James mumbled against the other soldier’s mouth. Ben McCall leant back against the side of the tent which gave a little against his weight. “There's no one out here this early,” he said, cocking his head to the side.  
“I know,” James sleepily ran a hand over his face. When he opened his eyes Ben was still peering at him suggestively. Bond didn't want to- but it had been so long since he'd seen Q, and probably a week since the last chance he'd had to toss himself off, so he took a step forward and caught Scotsman's lips in a slow, steady kiss. 

They'd not had a chance at each other in maybe two weeks- nothing more than the leering glances they gave each other over dinner, the odd run of a hand up a thigh in passing in the tent- when no one was looking. They'd been careful enough not to let anyone catch on. Both soldiers were heavily trained in espionage and both former members of the secret-service; so they knew how to keep information confidential when it needed to be.

Ben's hand slid down Bond's shoulders to his hips, where his fingertips made small circles against the sliver of skin above the waistband of his trackies. Bond pulled away first.

Even though he had full permission from Q to find someone whilst he was serving, Bond still found it hard to suppress the twinge of guilt- and whether it was because when he had sex with Ben he thought about Q, or because Q was alone at home whilst he was satisfied here, he couldn't quite pinpoint.  
James sighed against Ben's mouth, placing a kiss just below his lips before stepping aside and leaning against the tent next to him.

The rain still fell on them- steady but not too powerfully. Ben's hand looped around Bond's waist and rubbed warmly against his hip. Bond just gave in- he couldn't do anything else- and rested his head on the taller Scotsman's shoulder.

“Have you received anything from Henry?” Bond asked quietly.  
“Yeah, one letter on Tuesday,” McCall's face lit up, “He's all right- stayin' with his parents for the time being- God I hate them- you know he still hasn't come out to them?”  
Bond raised his eyebrows, “Seriously? He's twenty five,”  
“Don't remind me,” a devilish grin spread across McCall's face. Ben McCall loved Henry dearly and missed him even more- he'd told Bond this a hundred times over and Bond had listened, and reflected on how much he missed his dear Q.

It had been when they were comparing letters that James and Ben McCall had come to the stage at which they were currently at. It was four months ago: and just the two sat on the warm floor of the bunker, the evening sun beaming in through the open port whilst the other bunkhouse members were on extra training. James hadn't meant to see Ben's letter- the words seemed to flash across the page before his eyes _– I'm more in love with you every day...- god- the things I'd do to you if you were here... I hope you haven't fallen in love with any soldiers and forgotten about me.... your dearest Henry_

Ben had gotten quite aggressive with him initially- used his superior strength to kick Bond's leg and threaten to beat him senseless if he told anyone. James had just given a thin smile, before handing his own letter to Ben.  
The Scotsman had looked a little confused, before scanning over the small grey scrawl on the paper

__

_My one + only James_

_(How sappy did that sound? God- I miss you too much) I hope you're okay and had a good birthday. I hated not being able to be with you- my old man- I wish you could be back home so I could kiss you senseless._

_I miss everything about you. I hope you know it's okay if you find someone whilst you're serving. Fucking hell- you're basically living in a porno- surrounded by hundreds of shirtless, sweaty, sexually deprived men loaded with hormones and steroids._

_Can you tell it's been a while?_

_Anyway- all I want is for you to be happy. I have to keep this short- but stay safe and remember I'll always love you._

_-Q x_

It hadn't taken long for them to explain their stories to one another- and hardly minutes passed before they realised how similar their situations were. They'd both left boyfriends at home. Ben's Henry was eleven years younger than him, a newspaper reporter born and raised in the small Wessex town Ben was from.  
“Did you Q really mean what he said- that you should find someone?” Ben had asked incredulously- knowing how protective Henry was of him.  
“Q wants me to be satisfied. If I go too long I get frustrated and won't write him,” Bond grinned.  
Before Ben had even put the letter down he was on James, lips on his neck and hands running down his sides. Bond was just as fuelled, fingers sneaking up the edges of Ben's shirt and small groans being emitted here and there. They hadn't gone the whole way.  
Once Ben had half-undressed Bond his lips were tightly around his cock before Bond could even comprehend the question- and it was clear that he hadn't had sex in four months as in less than a minute he'd released down Ben's throat. He'd shamelessly been thinking of Q (which somehow made it okay for Bond)- remembering the way his boyfriend would take him in his parents' shower and then make up lies at breakfast as to why they took so long to get up.

He'd finished Ben off after that, quickly working his fingers at the man's penis before he, too, felt the effects of being abstinent for a third of a year, and came just as quickly as Bond had.  
The two lay, spent, in the bunkhouse for a while before even talking.

Ben's lips on his neck suddenly wrenched Bond back into the current moment.  
“Ben,” he groaned, “We shouldn't. It's... it's seven... people are waking up...”  
“Well... _let_ them see,” McCall whined against Bond's pale, rain-drenched neck.  
“You'll leave a mark,” James grinned, unable to repress the sensations that Ben's teeth on his neck and his rough Scottish accent so close to his ear, sent throughout his body.  
Ben pulled away, growling something indistinguishable to Bond before nipping his lower lip.  
“You're a nightmare, you know that?” Bond smiled.  
McCall quipped back in his irresistible accent, “Well you're no replacement for Henry yourself darlin'”

Bond rolled his eyes before leaving a kiss on the bridge of McCall's nose, and heading back into the tent to get a few minutes rest before he'd have to get ready for but another day of training.


End file.
